Quarter 3rd Person

He bows to the porcelain thrown. The rest of his lunch is finding it's way up his esophagus, burning away the lining. He doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems to be preoccupied. His shorts slip, almost completely removed from his backside. He doesn't even bother to grab them, this had become his daily routine.

He looks at a lonely quarter, hidden behind the toilet. When he was five it would have bought him something cool from a vending machine, like a super bouncy ball that the dog or his little sister could choke on. His little sister was naturally a size zero, he envied her, even though she was only twelve.

At the thought of being thin he throws himself forward again, lurching as he purges. He regrets lots of things, like not being his younger sister, but right now he regrets eating. This is how he fixes his slip-ups. If he was the perfect weight, then no one would make fun of him at school, like they do now. He's just some big gay joke for his university. He still weighs too much to be perfect. 95 pounds was like a obese walrus to him, he just wanted to be 90 pounds. 90
pounds was perfect.

Perfect like the models he saw at age 8 when he went to the mall with his mother, and then baby sister. He let the quarter remind him that he was almost 25 and was losing his hair. But he will destroy everything until he's thin, thin as a model. Those models were so thin. If he was 8 again that quarter would have bought him a ball of chewing gum, but he no longer chews gum. Gum is calories he has no way to purge. Where do they go? It's not like he was ingesting anything, as such he didn't believe the myth about celery either, that it was negative calories. No thing is negative calories, there is only water which is no calories at all.

At the thought of no calories he bends forward again, only bending too much and collapsing. He's down to the bottom of his stomach, all that is coming forward is stomach acid, but he figures that has calories too. After he's sure he's rid his stomach of everything he pulls himself up and makes his way to the sink.

As he washes his mouth out with mouthwash, he wonders about the calorie count for it. He's extra careful not to swallow even a milligram. He spits into the sink, turning the water on to wash the green away. He looks at the quarter once again, thinking about how at 15 he would have tried to win a free taco at Taco Bell, but now he was a vegetarian, less calories, less fat. Just the thought of Taco Bell made him feel like a mammoth.

He picks up the quarter, figuring he'll use it for laundry, turn the water on as hot as it will go, and try to shrink his clothes a size.